


One And A Million

by frogfarm



Series: Buffy Etcetera: (Shorts) By Request [24]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Community: femslash_minis, F/F, Identity Issues, Memory Related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-21
Updated: 2012-03-21
Packaged: 2019-01-30 06:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12648453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frogfarm/pseuds/frogfarm
Summary: In helping Dana make sense of things, Dawn gets personally involved in her work.Post-"Damage".





	One And A Million

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snowpuppies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowpuppies/gifts).



> For femslash_minis Slayers Round.
> 
> Requested: Memory mix-up, laces, Buffy

> _...whose blessed key,  
>  Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure..._

"Why does everything have to be therapeutic?" The sneer of curled lip can't hide a faint quiver. "Part of your nutritious breakfast?"

"This is just as much for my benefit." Small hand, warm upon the small of the back. "Possibly more."

"Statement of ownership." Black laces slide like slippery silk between girl's fingers, gripping, a garrote. "First word after mama is mine."

"So you say." Dawn looks back from out of the mirror at them, we, us. "At least this top is nicer than all that flannel. And it still goes with the jeans."

"So you say." Hands (mine?) find and toy with the fringe of lace at the collar (throat, garrote). Never quite sure if I'm more than a project. A real fixer upper. Full of possibilities.

The figure of Dawn points at the floor. "Combat boots?"

"Feel snug and secure." We nod at the us in the mirror. "You gonna pay for that?"

"Maybe." She gnaws at her lip, momentarily indecisive. "How many Slayers died virgin?"

"Again with the research." I, I, I...shrug. "Very romantic."

"Personal interest." The hand at my back has not moved. "Always been too curious."

"Don't I know it." I shake my head to remind my self, such as it is. Clearness remains elusive. "How many diaries did you find?"

Her reflected face goes twist up all sour. "Creep factor ten, achieved."

"And still your hand, not moving." The subtle pressure stirs primitive instinct, making me push up and back. I hold her gaze in the mirror to keep from falling. "Most of them."

"Not surprising," she whispers. Her touch is not tickle nor tease. So strange to see us all at once.

"How weird is it being both? Virgin, and..." Her other hand waves vaguely in the air.

"No weirder than being a key." I frown at myself. "That's not what I meant."

"Is it weird that sometimes you're my sister?"

"You're not my sister." The bitter taste of regret fills my mouth. Old ghosts can't hurt me. Only know how to make me their puppet.

"I know." She hides it so well. "I mean --"

"Not a Slayer." I struggle for words. Fighting to stay above the surface, not sink below.

"No." The old petulance returns. "I'm a key."

"Not any more." I hurt someone again. Don't know if I meant to.

"I only opened one lock."

"You know that's not true."

"Stop pretending." She nuzzles my neck and smells like stolen cigarettes. "Stop hiding behind them."

I don't have the heart or the words to tell her I don't have a choice. But I have a body my weapon scarred survivor intact and I give it to her all so very willingly, until our shouts are one and the multiverse of voices falls silent for a time.

"When you first saw me." Already the memory of her is beginning to fade. "What were you thinking?"

"Right now?" She wraps herself around me, biting my ear. "I'm only thinking about right now."


End file.
